


The Senior Citizen Ficlets

by pamelaroseee



Category: The Avengers (Marvel Movies), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Drabble Collection, F/M, Feels, Fluff and Angst, M/M, Originally Posted on Tumblr, Tumblr Prompt
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-06-15
Updated: 2014-11-11
Packaged: 2018-02-04 17:52:43
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 22
Words: 19,169
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1787803
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pamelaroseee/pseuds/pamelaroseee
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Stony + superfamily ficlets and drabble galore. Fluff, feels, and all that magic.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Date Night

**Author's Note:**

> Steve and Tony are on a date.

Living in the city meant that after a while you grew adjusted to the noise. New York never stopped making noise. Whether it be the honking horns, the speeding cars, the yelling citizens or the cameras clicking of the passing tourists, New York didn’t sleep, surprisingly. Steve had been adjusted to it. Understanding that you only heard the noise like one would hear the hum of a lightbulb if only the room was still enough.

Tony cleared his throat. Steve pulled his eyes from the river, smiling at the Brooklyn bridge lit up at night. He was home, this was his idea of home. Tony basked in the moment. Making Steve happy was all that mattered. It was a difficult task but he loved watching his eyes light up and his cheeks fill with color.

"Did you have a nice evening?" Tony finally asked, placing his hand on top of Steve’s hand that was locked around the rail.

Steve nodded, looking back out to the river as if he were amazed by the age old sight. Tony wanted to speak more but this wasn’t his moment. Over dinner he and Steve spoke about their living arrangements, creating a family, and really finding a place that worked for not only Peter but for them all. Steve didn’t say anything when Tony spoke about moving the headquarters of the company to California. Sadly, he hadn’t said anything since.

"They have earthquakes in California." Steve stated, his smile falling into a faint smirk.

"Did Siri tell you that?" Tony asked with his eyebrows raised. This would be a usual time for Tony to run off at the mouth about the state and overdosing Steve in more sass and smart assery than he needed but he didn’t. Tony stood back and waiting for Steve to unravel.

Steve didn’t answer his question. “They have mud slides and forest fires that last for months.” It was as if these typical facts were spilling from his mouth without much thought or motive behind them. “Peter could turn into one of those surfer kids and get an arm bit off by a shark.” He continued. Pausing for a second, he sighed. “Honestly, I’m not a big fan of the beach. Having my shirt off for too long doesn’t sit well with me. You know it makes me feel funny.”

Tony nodded, thinking about their last four years together and how he can count the number of times Steve was shirtless that didn’t include him taking a shower or spilling coffee on himself.

" _This_ is home. I’ve lived here my entire life. All I wanted to do was raise my children here. Hell, I was okay with even dying here since this is the only place I seem to belong. I don’t want to learn new street names and diners or foods, this is the place I know because I love it here. I can leave whenever I want, I could’ve left whenever I wanted but," he paused to sigh. The hot tears resting in his eyelashes. "Why change what’s not broken? I love you with all my heart. I love you more than I love anything or anyone in this world and if you feel the same way, if you love me as much as I love you and you have some sort of sympathy for what I’ve gone through … Don’t make me go. Please don’t. I’m begging you." Tony pinched his lips, fighting away the frown and guilt that started to appear on his face.

"Steve." He whispered as he pulled the taller man into a tight hug. His hand trying to pull him closer as he felt the tears dampening his shoulder through his shirt. It was quiet, still enough for you to hear the yelling, the honking, the driving, the trains and to hear the city that Steve called his home.


	2. Ain't No Rest For Tony

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tony won't come to bed.

Midnight had come and went, leaving only a few hours to the darkness before the sun came to take it all away. This was when Tony was at his best. Everything was quiet and still, Steve had fallen asleep while watching his favorite movie and Tony was hidden in his lab, breaking the promise to come to bed a little over three hours ago.

Sure, work happened at this hour, devices being created and tested before thrown into the beta of the general public but it was better than drinking. Anything was better than him drinking and blaming everyone for nothing but to him it was something that he just couldn’t place his finger on.

Music hummed through the lab, low enough for him to understand but loud enough for him to feel.

A drink was tempting though. The warm brown liquor to kindle a fire inside his cold body. Steve wouldn’t approve. The smell would wake the blonde from a deep slumber and start a fight that Tony was just to weak for.

Burning and singing was all his eyes knew how to do. Rubbing them with the back of his wrist, he washed away the thought of a drink. Or the thought of sleep. There were no real trouble in his life anymore. Tony couldn’t ask for anything more but the craving was making his skin crawl and itch. He rubbed his eyes again, glancing over at the bar between the blinking and rubbing. Once he stopped, he jumped a bit. Startled by the angry, tired face that was Steve.

"You’re a liar." Steve croaked, eyes slightly closed as he punched in the passcode to the secure laboratory. Dragging his feet, he shuffled his way towards the hard-working dark hired man.

"I didn’t lie." He stated, screwing the nuts into the partially functioning robot. "I just haven’t come to bed yet."

"You said you’d be done soon."

"How soon is soon?" Tony questioned, eyes squinting and lips curving at the blonde who wouldn’t catch his reference.

Steve folded his arms, a stern look covering his face. “I hate when you do that.”

Tony sighed, dropping his arms and head. “I don’t need to go to sleep, Steve. I can’t sleep. I sneak out while you’re snoring your heart out, I come down here and I work. I like working. I need to work. I don’t need sleep.”

Steve sighed, shaking his head and leaning his hip on the metal table beside him. “You said you weren’t going to let this bother you?”

Tony rolled his shoulder, going back to screwing together his robotic companion. “All good.” He said to the machine. “Back to work.” The robot rolled away beeping, clamping it’s claw in response. 

"Hello?" Steve barked, looking at Tony as if he lost his mind.

"I’m working." Tony responded, walking over to the long wide table with digital floating graphs and drawings.

Steve raised his eyebrows, clenching his jaw as his nostrils flared in response to his anger. “You’re always working!” He yelled out pushing the table away from him. Tony didn’t flinch, not turning around to inspect the damage. “This is how you’re going to treat me? After everything we’ve been through and ever said, this is how it ends.”

"I just don’t trust you anymore, alright? I cant fucking trust you like I could a week ago today."

Steve bit his bottom lip. Dropped his arms, he shook his head. Opening his mouth to speak, he closed it. There was no reason to say anything else. There was nothing more to say to him and Steve wanted to break through, wanted to apologize or explain it better, he couldn’t and he wouldn’t. He walked towards the door, slamming his fist into the metal table leaving a crater sized dent into the surface. “I’m going to Natasha’s for a while. You said you wouldn’t let this bother you and you did.” 

Tony said nothing. He didn’t peer over his shoulder, he didn’t stop flicking at the holographic tables projecting from his computer desk and he didn’t try to stop him.

"You’re the liar, Tony. Not me."

The door slid open then shut. Quiet rolling back into the lab as if nothing ever disturbed the peace. Tony felt a burn his eyes but it surely had nothing to do with his lack of sleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> more feels. sorry not sorry. (kinda am)


	3. Steve's Mornings

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Steve's usual morning.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> superfamily stuff.

Mornings varied for each person in the Stark Tower.

Peter was a slow starter - groaning at the rising sun, falling asleep brushing his teeth, yawns accompanying all of his words, eating slower than exhausted cows. There was no sort of motivation or fire under him at the beginning of the day (unless you count Johnny's need to light a spark under his seat every now and then just to get a laugh for himself).

Speaking of which, Johnny was a bottle rocket - flying from the sheets, showering then eating, talking at the top of his lungs through each event as he laughed and joked.

Tony was always angry - throwing back the sheets, grumbling while moving about, cursing the sun for shining to bright or not at all, kicking off his clothes, and still huffing while bathing.

They all differed, throwing out their most distinctive personality trait at the start of the day while Steve was unlike them all.

Steve slowly peeled the cover from his skin, stepping lightly towards the bathroom to slip out of his clothes and into the trickling warmth that devoured him. Drying off is always quick and fluid. Wrapping a towel around his waist to briefly step back into the bedroom to assemble his usual workout outfit: jogging pants, red hooded jacket, plain white tee shirt, tube socks and his newest tennis shoes (they were always new since he destroyed them by the end of his run). It was simple, quick, careful, and, most importantly, quiet. After a quick, quiet shower, Steve would just now be meeting the sun.. Stepping through the partially dark hallways, he stopped at each room to smile at the resting bodies of his only sons.

At timesh is runs would be short, sometimes they would run to long or go by too quick, but they were always but fulfilling. The park greeted him first, stopping the sprinkles right at his arrival so he could enjoy the sun gleaming from the fresh, wet grass. Then it was the bridge, zooming with the morning commute and other exercisers sort of like himself. Lastly, he sprint through his favorite neighborhood, waving at the children setting out to start their academic day or meeting up with those who wanted to always give him a pat on the back for a job well done from whatever mayhem he saves their lives from.

When he returned home, the tower was alive with the sound of his family. All of them yelling at one another and breaking things they often forgot to replace. Steve then enjoyed his coffee while darting his eyes across the room at his active and lively family. Kissing his husband and the warm forehead of his sons, he smiled. There were a million different ways he could wake up or start the day but this way was how he’d always want for it to be.


	4. 4AM

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tony calls Steve at 4 AM

Silence echoed throughout the small hotel room Steve occupied. Slumber was his only friend at this ungodly hour, denying all that would keep his mind awake and wondering. Dreams of things he couldn’t understand filled his mental space until the real life noise disturbed him.

Slamming his hand around the table beside his bed, he found the small device and pulled it to his ear. “Hello?” He croaked, eyes still closed and sleepy as he laid on his side.

"Do you think people die and come back or they’re dead forever?"

The voice was more than familiar, it was comforting. Steve tried to take comfort in the voice but only annoyance could boil under his skin.

"Tony-" Steve sighed.

"Hear me out. If I just so happen to die from this surgery, I want to know what you think would happen to my soul thing-thing." The tone of a joke was lingering but Steve couldn’t laugh, or even break a smile. The thought made his skin crawl and his muscles tighten.

"You’re not going to die, Tony."

"Do you believe that? Do you know that for a fact or are you jsut telling me I’ll be fine because that’s the thing to say?"

Steve knew he was angry, scared more than anything but he was sure that fear ran through the other man the same way it ran through him. “I don’t know for a fact but I believe it with every fiber of my entire being.”

"You know, you’re a horrible liar and I will make my one last wish be that you fix that."

Steve finally cracked a smile. “I miss you.”

Tony huffed, shifting the phone repeatedly before the silence slipped back in. “I miss you more.”

"If this weather weren’t so-"

"That’s not what I called about. Tell me what you think."

Steve rolled unto his back, eyes starting up at the ceiling secretly wondering if Tony was doing the same. “What about?”

"My soul thing. Heaven or back on Earth?"

"Heaven is our true home."

Tony laughed a hearty laugh. His voice carrying past the phone throughout the room and then he slowly stopped. There was silence. The rhythmic sound of breathing coming through both speakers of the phone made each man feel at home yet still so alone. Steve wanted to speak, fixing his mouth into words he thought about saying but didn’t. Tony couldn’t do the same.

"I don’t want to die." His voice was rough, hard with the basking of emotions that he’d been to afraid to release. The truth was free, like a caged bird waiting for it’s first chance to fly free.

"I don’t want you to die. I love you too much." The silence brewed. Sniffing and a short burst of laughter was heard from the other end.

"Oh my God, I can’t believe I, of all people, have cancer." The sobbing was evident, his voice shaking with mockery and fear. "I can’t believe that I couldn’t have been smart enough to-"

"Tony, don’t talk like that. Nobody, and I mean nobody, could’ve known that what you do everyday to save the lives of millions would’ve led to this."

Silence. A huff and a sniff from Tony’s end before the slapping noise of his hand wiping away the tears. “You’re right.”

A pause before Steve sighed himself. “I’m booked for the first flight home tomorrow. I’ll come straight up to the hospital and when you wake up, I’ll be there. I’ll be right there, holding and kissing your hand as I wait for you to wake up.”

Tony nodded as if it could be seen. “Okay.”

"Get some rest, you have a big day tomorrow." Steve insisted.

Tony sighed, it may have been the first time or possibly the one-hundredth. Either way, he didn’t fight.

"If you’re not there tomorrow, I’m suing the airline, the hotel, the company and everyone who works there."

Steve couldn’t help but smile. “I love you.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> not beta'd, not proofread. oop.


	5. F

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Peter gets a bad grade.

"Are you kidding me?" Tony was fuming, his eyes an even darker brown leaving Peter believe that they were black and he was possessed by something devilish.

Steve stood with his arms crossed, staying hushed and humbled as Tony paced the room. That was his thing, pacing and thinking before speaking and lashing out.

"Look, kiddo, I’m not usually one to give you hard time over something like this but seriously? An F in Physics _and_ English? That’s an insult to everyone in this house! He’s Captain America’s for fucks sake! My life is nothing but Physics! Do you think it’s uncool to ask for help? Do you need a tutor? Is it that Stacy girl? I knew that girl was a Taylor Swift in disguise."

"Dad -" Peter protested with his eyes shooting up at the taller man.

"It is, isn't it?" Tony answered with his eyes wide. "Fucking Stacy."

Peter shook his head. “You wouldn’t understand.”

"What is it that I wouldn’t understand, Peter? You’re a straight A student who just got his first F in his entire life and it just so happens to be around the time that you pick up this girlfriend of yours."

"Tony." Steve spoke lowly from the back of the room. It was as if he was hiding in the shadows, always watching the two bicker but never finding the right time to chime in. "Hear him out for once."

"Why is it that no one thinks I listen? Pepper, Happy, Bruce, Clint, and now you? Really? Well, you know what, go ahead Peter. Talk." Tony says as he takes a seat across from the teenager. "Tell me what it is that I won’t understand." His angry eyes were still dark with frustration but his face was blank, waiting impatiently for the fidgety teenager to finally say something.

Peter sighed, rubbing a hand over his face before resting the fist under his chin. “It’s stupid," He started, leaning back in his chair with his arms crossed. "You’re both just going to be mad at me so can I just get my punishment and go to bed?”

"Peter, take advantage of the time that for once your father shut up long enough to listen to you. Tell us what it is and we'll let it go." Steve insisted from the wall he was still occupying.

Tony huffed while mumbling, “You’ll let it go.”

Peter sighed again, leaning forward unto the table to put his face in his hands. He shook his head before swallowing the lump in his throat. "Gwen broke up with me." He said lowly. "She said I wasn’t good enough. Told me that something about us didn't 'click' anymore and that she wants to see what else is out there. She broke up with me because I disappear too often and come to her house later than I say I would. I’ve been nothing but good to her, great, even. I'm only protecting her! I can't be all like, 'Hey, Gwen, I'm Spiderman. Sorry if I shoot webs while we're making out, I just get excited." Tony's face curled in disgust. "I don’t know what to do. I can’t eat or sleep really and she won’t talk to me. I messed up and I know it and it’s really hard letting you two down right now."

Tony sucked his teeth, obviously unimpressed with his answer as he shook his head. “Girls come and go, Pete.”

"Tony." Steve sighed before dropping his arms. "No."

"I have no idea when you started having a thing against honesty. Pete, kiddo, girls come and go. They don’t stick around long enough for you to even figure out what to do with them before they split and find the next best thing. That’s what they crave, the next best thing. And you just said you're Spiderman, there will be tons of girls to flock to you. They do it to us all the time. You’re the best thing she could’ve ever had and now she has nothing because there’s no one better than you. You’re our kid, look at us, is there anything or anyone better than us?"

Pete smirked. “I can name a few.”

They all shared a small laugh. 

"Gwen is a nice girl and maybe she’ll learn to understand and respect your secret. We understand why you live in secrecy, maybe one day she will. Don’t beat yourself up over her, though." Steve finally added before walking into the light to sit with the two. 

"Yeah, you’re right." Peter sighed with a smile, running his fingers through his untamed hair. Steve felt the need to ruffle the strands, It was a habit since Peter decided to have a more shaggy look to his style, Steve always felt the need to ruffle them just to let the young man know he was there for him.

"Now, I’m really glad we had this after school special but if you get another F in your lifetime, I will Hulk out and Loki you. Do you understand me?"

Peter looked at his father with his eyes wide. “You know I could die, right?”


	6. MOMA

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tony doesn't enjoy the museum as much as Steve does.

Art wasn’t exactly Tony’s forte. He marveled at expensive pieces from time to time, only really interested in displaying the piece for the sake of bragging about the zeros on the price tag.

Steve, on the other hand, felt compelled under the artwork. There was always the need to touch it, to feel the texture of the paint, the material, to feel the stroke of the brush and feel the connection to the artist. It was peaceful in the moment of gazing at art, thinking of how long it took the painter or how much sweat and blood had been mixed into the work. They were all beautiful. He learned that Mona Lisa lacked eyebrows because it deemed a woman youthful and more beautiful. In his eyes, she smiled. Then the nude paintings, the elongated necks of women and distorted body structure because that was beauty in their world. 

His favorite of all was Gustav Klimt. How such beauty could be composed into a canvas was quite the conundrum for Steve and the gold. It wasn’t just the shine of the gold but the artistry of mixing and creating such a vivid and beautiful color.

Tony yawned behind his fist, aimlessly walking around the room as he challenged the small plaques that said **DO NOT TOUCH**.

Pottery and artifacts were placed everywhere and with little care, Tony touched them. First with a prick with a pointer finger. 

"Tony." Steve whispered. 

Tony spun on his heels, like a child who’d been caught. “Hm?”

"Stop it." The words were through his teeth. Tony grinned, a small huff as he continued to pace the room before meeting with another oil on canvas. This time instead of a prick, he ran his finger across it. "Tony!" Steve croaked, still lowly but loud enough to catch the mans attention. "Put your hands in your pocket."

"Okay, okay … grandpa." Tony took his previously folded arms and tucked his not so idle hands into his pocket. "When are we eating?"

"When I’m done." Steve retorted.

"You’ve been staring at this for like an hour." Tony whined as he spun around on the heels of his shoes.

"Shhh. I’m almost done."

Tony rolled his eyes, letting out a huff and a groan as he stared at the picture of the naked women. “None of them have eyebrows.” Steve ignored him, his back turned towards the bored man as he marveled upon the Adele Bloch piece. Tony peered over his shoulder, slowly removing the gel pen form his pocket as he leaned forward. “Art is stupid. It’s not even atomically correct.” He whispered to himself. Leaning forward on his tip toes, Tony began to slowly draw small curves above the eyes. One pointing downward as the other was upward as if the woman in the painting was being less model and more seductive. “Too thin.”

Suddenly, Steve pulled himself away. “Alright Tony ..” his voice trailed, turning around to find the older man lingering over the painting with pen in hand.

"Anthony Edward Stark!" 

Tony fell back unto his feet, turning quickly at the commander yell out his full name. Tony stood with pen still in hand, a nervous smile before tucking the utensil into his pocket. “She needed eyebrows.”

Steve growled, his arms folded across his broad chest while shaking his head. Now there was a new piece for Tony to brag about at their next party.


	7. Asleep

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tony watches Steve sleep

Tony was the master of the night, the owl that stalked and preyed during the midnight hours and resided as soon as dawn peeped through the clouds of the sky. What was odd about this was that he’d never seen Steve sleep himself. Perhaps it was because most of the time when Tony was up he was buzzing around his lab with the music blaring loud enough to make his brain ooze from his ears (which only he could hear since the lab was soundproof) but never did he ever actually just lie in bed awake.

This night he did.

Tangled between Steve’s limp limbs, Tony rolled over to stare the man in the face. It was quiet, all was still and it was ll so beautiful. 

Steve never snored, something the serum fixed, so all that could be heard was his heavy breaths. At times he would flinch, normal sleep paralysis stuff but other times Tony knew it was the nightmares. Those fucking nightmares, war and other things tormenting him through the night as he tried to rest his tired soul. Tony knew that feeling all too well but tonight was about their fears, right now was about the beauty of the tranquility and the man before him who smiled in his sleep at times.

Tony brushed his hand over Steve’s cold cheek, a smile dancing across his lips as well as he took in every small detail that he could. There were freckles along his cheeks, something he wouldn’t have noticed if it weren’t for this moment. It was silly, completely absurd even, but Tony thought about kissing the plain that those beautiful blemishes covered. Could you even declare his freckles a blemish? Tony snorted at his own thoughts, panning down to his lips as he ran his thumb over the soft flesh. Those lips were the bane of his existence. 

Tony recalled their first date, filled with fleeting glances and awkward laughs before they declared the whole night to be a fail. They were ready to part ways, Tony more than Steve, and suddenly with eyes closed, their lips met. Tony recalled kisses during his adolescence, his first that he’d rank a four, kisses with strangers that’s come in as a lousy two, then there was Pepper who was a strong nine but Steve? Steve wasn’t shy with tongue or afraid to touch too much and that’s what made him a 10. 

Tony retracted his hand when he felt the need to kiss the sleeping man. As much as he wanted to feel those fireworks again and again for the rest of his life, right now was a about the the man before him who was slowly waking up and staring up at Tony with a faint smile. 

"This is a first." Steve croaked out as he swallowed the dry lump in his throat. 

Tony reciprocated the gesture whole pulling the tired man into a lazy kiss. 


	8. Only A Kiss

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tony learns about the Steve + Nat kiss (post-Winter Soldier) and is jealous. — requested by bite-and-not-release on tumblr.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> YES I USED THE KILLERS IN THE CHAPTER TITLE!

Tony was the third wheel. It was shocking, to him mostly, since there was never the feeling of being left out ever before until this moment.

Steve and Natasha were laughing, sharing stories and jokes as Tony stood with his arm folded and his eyes roaming the bleak room. 

"I’m dressed in this hoodie and jeans and the shoes, God, I don’t know how kids these days where their shoes just not tied at all .." Tony rolled his eyes as the words came pouring out of Steve’s mouth. Clint sat with his legs crossed Indian style on the table with his arrows in his lap, nodding as the blonde spoke and Tony sat in the chair just listening as the words came in one ear and went out the other. Natasha was talking now.

"… and of course, this guy is on edge, freaking out about someone spotting us. So, we’re standing there and I see Rumlow and I’m like ‘kiss me’ and suddenly, you’ve never seen anything as red as his face."

The words stung like a fresh wound. Steve caught the eyes of Tony as he suddenly jumped up from his seat. “And now I have to go drop the kids off at the pool.” His blood boiled with rage and envy. Tony slipped from the chair and found himself walking towards the bathroom as his mind flashed with images of a hipster Steve and Nat on an escalator sharing a wet one. 

Tony pushed the door open, slipping into a stall and locking the door all out of habit. It was silly, really. They didn’t mean much to one another, they were close friends and perhaps the night after shawarma they shared an intimate moment or two but they were their own people. They had no attachments to one another. Though it all felt like more to Tony, it all felt like there was more to come, more to be of them and instead they went their separate ways. It was silly, utterly silly to think they Tony meant something to him.

The door slid open and Tony caught a breath. 

"Tony?"

The voice was familiar. Too familiar. The stall opened to revealed a flustered Tony inside. 

"I’m trying to drop a deuce in here, Rogers. How can I help you?"

"Are you upset?" Steve asked sincerely. Tony felt his heart skip.

Tony tried not to hesitate. “About what?”

"You know what I’m talking about."

It was hard to hide how he felt. “Do you mean you two going to an Apple store to tinker on their ridiculously mediocre operating system when you could’ve came to me? Or the part where you destroyed helicarriers that-“

"Tony." He interjected with eyes fill with genuine concern. Damn those blue eyes, Tony thought.

Tony had his arms folded, eyes looking everywhere else that wasn’t those blue eyes. “Who’s better?”

Steve cracked a nervous smile, a low chuckle that he coughed to cover. “I beg your pardon?”

"Was there tongue? Did she bite your lip and put her hand on your neck? Did you enjoy it? You grope her boobs like some schoolboy?" The questions seemed endless, his mind darting with reasons as to why he wasn't told about it but who was he to Steve? Was there a reason why he needed to be informed?

Steve couldn’t contain his laughter. Tony stood with a blank face and his eyes darting elsewhere to fight the embarrassment. He felt stupid, and small. It was childish, to be jealous of her and him but they made sense, they worked and, well, he and Steve just didn’t. "Are you jealous?" Steve asked through his choppy laugh. 

Tony shook his head, letting out a few odd sounds before answering. “Pfft. Wha-? What? Of course not. No. I’m just curious. Is she better? Is that why you won’t answer? Tell me, who's better?”

There was a space between the two men, this gap that seemed wider the more Tony refused to look in his direction. Suddenly, it was warm, Steve only an inch away, looking Tony up and down a time or two. Tony’s arms fell to his side, his eyes glued to the blonde before he answered. “My mother.”

Steve began laughing as Tony pulled his eyebrows together. “You asshole!”


	9. I am drubnk.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> anonymous suggested: drunk texts between Steve and Tony, Steve being the drunk one. (:

Sam was determined. He knew so little about the serum, as so did Steve, so tonight was the night of experiments. Of course, Sam was nothing close to a scientist and he had no idea what amount of liquor it took for one to reach inebriation but he was more than determined to figure out just how many beers it took to get Steve just a little buzzed.

"59 bottles of beer on the wall!" Sam sang out as he passed Steve another. Steve hated the taste. Deer piss, his father always related it to and for some reason, the imagery of deer peeing while someone holding a bottle underneath them was what stuck in his head. Instead of dwelling on the unsettling thought, he drank. 

"Sam, if you keep singing that song, I’m not going to drink anything else." Steve chuckled out as he pressed the bottle neck to his bottom lip.

"Do you feel anything?" Sam asked with his eager eyes wide as an owl.

Steve shrugged, finishing the beer before sitting it on the table. “I feel like I need to use the restroom.”

"Maybe beer isn’t what we need." Sam jumped to his feet, running to the cabinets as he searched for something. Steve was clueless, drinking another beer but for the sake of wanting to end this experiment. "Aha!" A buzzed Sam yelled out as he stumbled back to the couch. "Vodka! Here, drink it."

"Oh no, I’m not drinking that. It smells like battery acid." 

"Alright. No peer pressure, whatever. I’ll just keep drinking and singing."

Steve yanked the bottle from Sam. “Do not sing.” And just like, the bottle was upside down being guzzled by the chiseled man.

it took 79 beers, two bottles of vodka, and one wine cooler. 

"What’re you doin’?" Sam slurred as he looked over at a wide eyed Steve.

Steve was trying to text, though it wasn’t something he had gotten used to entirely just yet. The letters were dancing with one another, becoming a blur then a set of random symbols he didn’t know what to do with. “I should text Tony. I should tell him what we’ve discovered.”

_Tnyo, i am drubnk. text me back._   
_steve_

The phone buzzed loudly on the leather couch, slightly scaring Steve.

_You’re what?_

_I am drunk. i mviss you smo meuch._

_Lol, I miss you too. How much did you have to drink?_

_79 beers, 2 bdottles of vodka and a cool wine?_

_Wine cooler? Oh, wow, nice touch._

_what arje nyou wearin?g_

_Uh, jeans and a shirt. You?_

_same, mabye less. send hme a picture._

_Drunk you is fun._

Sam was asleep, mumbling incoherently as Steve snuck into the bathroom.

Tony sent a picture of him shirtless, something subtle and innocent. Steve didn’t know what he was doing. Glancing at a sleep Sam before walking in here made him realize how tired he was himself. 

With little energy, he took off his shirt, pulling down his pants slightly to find the right angle in the mirror that showed off just enough to get Tony’s engines going. It took several attempts, several knee bumps into the door and many slips off the counter before he get one that was, well, good enough.

_Are we doing what I think we’re doing?_

_yes. maye.b i don’t know._

Another picture, Tony lying in bed with his pants off. Steve couldn’t keep his eyes open. The phone continued to vibrate, buzzing throughout the bathroom.

_You like this?_

_Steve? C’mon, I can’t do this all by myself, your turn._

_Steve don’t be forwarding these pictures to Nat and laughing at me._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i don't always post the drabbles here right away so follow my tumblr if you want: theseniorcitizen


	10. Oh, Holy Night.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Steve and Tony deck the halls. Though Tony is the grinch.

Tony didn’t like Christmas. He hated everything it stood for and he hated everything it became over time. Sure, there was something nice about getting presents for no good reason but he hadn’t had that luxury for a long time, or at all, really.

Steve, on the other hand, loved the holiday more than he loved the food. This year, the ones he would spend alone after turning Bucky down repeatedly, it was with his new family. Sure, there was nothing like an authentic Irish Christmas but what more could you expect from a demi-God, a man who wore an Iron suit, a perfect marksmen, a stellar assassin, and a man who often turned into a gigantic green man?

"Tony, can you pass me the bulbs?"

He sighed before standing to his feet. “Steve, honey, darling, I don’t know why we waste so much time putting up this tree to only take it down in about two weeks.”

"Because it’s a symbol." Steve stated, not looking in Tony’s decoration. Currently he was trying to drape the ribbon across the branches even though he knew he would be putting up another after he got the bulbs on.

"A symbol for what? Jesus was born in a shed-"

"Barn."

Tony paused to glare at the back of Steve’s head. “Barn, when did they get time to get a tree? Who was the one that said ‘Let’s celebrate the birth of the Lord and Savoir by erecting a tree.’?”

Steve sighed, dropped his hands to his side before turning on his heels to fold them across his chest. “You don’t have to be in here if you don’t like it.”

"And miss you suffering? I think not." Tony handed him the golden balls. Steve sighed as he turned around to place them all about.

"Do you think it should be a star or an angel this year?"

Tony dropped his head back with a look of discontent on his tired mug. “Waaaah? Angel? Star? Let me guess, the star is like the whole north star thing.”

Steve chuckled lightly. “Good job, shellhead.”

Tony shook his head as he took his seat back on the couch. “I don’t see the big idea about Christmas. I mean, I have the money for gifts but no one gets anybody what they want anyway.”

Steve peered over his shoulder at the rambling man. The words continued to fall out his mouth, his head nodding from side to side while his hand gestured them in the every which direction. Steve listened unwillingly as he traced his steps to the kitchen cabinet. Under the sink was a small think rectangular box. With red shiny paper, a white bow and a small envelope on the front, Steve dropped the mysterious gift until Tony’s lap.

"Moses-" The words stopped short as the box slapped his thighs. "What is this?"

"A meaningful Christmas gift from someone who loves you." Tony raised an eyebrow as he slowly pulled at the wrapping. Steve watched him carefully, taking his precious time with the taped opening down the back before he peeled it all off. "Open it." The box was blank, cardboard brown and unmarked.

Tony huffed as he snapped the tape on the side before unveiling the drawing inside. It was perfect. Iron Man in mid-flight with the Avengers tower in the background. The colors were beautiful, such detail that Tony couldn’t manage to catch his breath. “Steve” He breathed out before cracking a small smile. “You shouldn’t’ve.”

"I know but you wouldn’t shut up about people not getting things that were meaningful."

Tony stood to his feet, setting the picture on the couch beside him as he walked towards the kitchen counter right off the living space. “JARVIS.” He called into the sky.

"Yes sir?"

"Send DUM-E up with Project 512."

"Right away, sir."

Steve stood baffled. Tony was leaning on the counter with only one arm as the other scratched at his eyebrow. 

"DUM-E is a bit slow sometimes." Tony mumbled in excuse for the waiting period.

The elevator slid open, the robot rolling towards the man with a relatively small box clinched between his clamps. Steve didn’t say anything, waiting patiently for the weird to be explained. Tony grabbed the box, walking closer to the man. “Before I open this, don’t make that face you always make when I manage to surprise you when you were bound to give up all hope in me.”

"I don’t have a face for that." Steve insisted with his lips curled.

Tony opened the box. “It’s not a real star but it might as well be. It’s made up of-“

"Shut up, Tony." 

The two kissed before the partially decorated tree. Tony hated Christmas but he loved making Steve happy.


	11. Geenie

Tony clicked what seemed aimlessly at the semi-transparent phone in his hands. Steve was at the other end of the couch, the two exchanging love taps via big toe.

"I found this site, thing that can guess any person or character you’re thinking of." Tony says pointing at the device as he spoke.

Steve raised an eyebrow. The blonde was elbow deep in a book that he knew nothing about but had such an overwhelming interest in. “Anyone?”

"Well, I’m sure they mean famous but yeah." Tony slightly shrugged and nodded. "Wanna play?"

"Sure, why not?"

Tony cleared his throat before he asked the first question. “Is this person real?”

"Yes."

"Is this person male or female?"

"Male."

"Do they have human skin?"

"At times, yes." Steve laughed lowly.

"Is this person in a movie?"

"Not yet, no, maybe yes?"

Tony looked from under his brow. “How do you not know?” Steve shrugged. “Anywho, is this person tall?”

More laughs. “Nope.”

"Does this person have hair?"

"More than they should but yes."

"Are they addicted to coke?"

"Not at all." Steve laughed out.

Tony looked up again, a small smirk dancing along his lips. “Does this person have superpowers?”

Steve tilted his head left and right, scrunching up his face as he decided on an answer. “Kinda.”

"Is this person rich?"

"Yes."

"Is this person known for their intelligence?"

Steve nodded with a budding smile.

"Does this person have an alter ego?"

Steve stared. “Not particularly. “

Tony felt the laugh brewing from within his chest. “Is this person in the media often.”

"Way more than he should be."

"Are you married to this person?"

Steve sat the book on his lap entirely. He felt his skin crawl and tingle with nervousness. “No.”

"Would you like to be?"

"Tony."

Tony stared for a moment, his eyebrows jumping with anticipation and joy. Steve couldn’t resist the urge to smile, the silliness and spontaneity making his heart flutter in joy and sadness. “So?”

"I …" He paused to rub his eyebrow, closing an eye before he continued, "I was thinking of Bruce."

Tony’s smile dropped, his face painted in embarrassment that he fought so hard to hide.

"But I’d love to marry you if that’s an option."

Tony crawled toward the taller man, pulling his neck into a deep kiss. Both men were smitten, smiling from ear to ear before Tony broke away to raise a finger. “Wait, how is Banner rich?”

Steve shrugged before he spoke. “I meant he’s rich in heart.”

Tony snorted out a small laugh before pulling Steve in for another kiss.


	12. Goodnight & Goodbye

With hands wrapped loosely around the back of Tony’s neck, Steve refused to let him go. They were kissing, passionately as if it would be the last time because, according to Fury, it might be. Steve was on a mission, a long mission that included them being apart from one another until who knows when. Weeks prior to the news, the two were wrapped up in their anger and dismissal of the idea but, when it all boiled down to it, they had no choice.

Tony was needed for meetings for the next few weeks, trying to wrap himself in his work as much as he could but, he as well as Steve, knew that there was no way in hell that he could go without thinking of how much he missed Steve.

Steve only knew so little about the mission, which was out of the norm, but after hearing wind that Hydra could be involved, he didn’t want to think about it.

"Go and do what you have to." Tony whispered as he pulled himself away from Steve. It was hard for the super soldier to know when to let go or when tight was too tight or close was too close but none of that mattered, none of that meant a single thing to him when he wasn’t even sure if he’d even see Tony again. Hiding his pain was his favorite trick, as it was for Tony as well, but he couldn’t bare it anymore. 

"Not without you, I can’t do any of this without you."

"You’ll be home soon."

"How do you know?"

Tony was quiet, his eyes lingering to the ground rather than meeting those of Steve. That was when the blonde could always tell when the man was defeated. “I don’t but you won’t if you have that attitude about it.”

Steve shook his head, pacing his forehead to Tony’s as he tried to fight for a smile. “I’ll call you when you can.”

Fury explicitly said no contact. Tony smiled as he thought about the rebel that Steve liked to be at times. “Looks like someone likes breaking the rules.”

"For you, I’ll do anything."

Tony sighed, biting his lip before leaning to kiss Steve’s forehead. “Go do what you have to, that’s what you can do for me. Don’t die, don’t get into fights with people stronger than you, and don’t fall in love with someone else. Come home to me in one piece and not that stupid folded up flag they always bring to widowers.”

Steve smirked, nodding slowly. Running his hands from Tony’s neck to under his chin, Steve looked him in the eye for what felt like the last time. “Did you know that I love you?”

Tony tried not to smile as wide as he did but he couldn’t help it. “Thought you only liked me for your weird metal armor kink?”

Both men smiled before they kissed again. This was for the last time.


	13. State Fair

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Single dad Tony meets Steve and awesomeness happens."  
> \- billiondollarsuperhero

Steve spun around in his chair as he waited for someone to walk up to his booth. The fair was the best time of the year for him since he was generally paid well to do nothing but paint onto kid’s face for way more than it was worth but he liked seeing their faces light up once they looked in the mirror. He wasn’t the best but he was pretty good. This year wasn’t so great of a year for him. Instead of the noisy squeals of small kids with too much energy and nowhere to exert it, he sat hopelessly waiting for someone to appear.

Tony ruffled Peter’s hair as he walked into the fair grounds. It was sort of their thing, going to the fair and eating everything that made them sick. The six year old had a twinkle in his eye when the WE CAN FRY ANYTHING sign caught his attention. “Dad, fried twinkies?”

Tony gagged at the thought, never being much of a fan of fried anything but he nodded reluctantly. “Whatever you want, kiddo.”

Steve continued to spin in his chair as the small kid walked past. Suddenly, he jumped from his seat, slipping into his salesmen mode effortlessly. “Hey, would you like to have your face painted?”

The two stopped short, looking over their shoulder before Peter’s eyes grew wide as he saw the pictures of the different animals. “Dad, I want to be a pterodactyl!”

Steve laughed lowly, as Tony shrugged. “I don’t know if he can do that, Pete.”

Steve leaned forward a bit. “I’ll try. If I can’t, what’s your second favorite animal?”

Peter placed a finger on his chin as he thought long and hard about it. “Tiger.”

Steve laughed. “I can do tiger. Hop up here, I’ll make you look just like one.”

Peter detached his hand from his dad’s to run over to the empty seat. Tony slowly followed behind, standing behind the boy as Steve pulled up a chair and readied his paints. “What’s your name?” Steve asked as he shook the bottles.

"Peter." He answered with a wide grin. 

Tony stuck out his hand. “I’m Tony, his dad.”

Steve smiled back as he shook Tony’s hand. “I’m Steve, the face painter.” Squirting the red unto the plate, he went to shake the orange and black. “You two new to the fair this year?”

"Not really. We’ve been coming since Peter was about three."

"Yeah, we come each year to eat food that my aunt gets mad at dad for letting me eat it. I’m allergic to a lot of things but it all taste so good!"

Steve smiled as he listened, Peter was full of energy, like many of the other kids that he met bu t it was enough to want to applaud the man behind it. Truthfully, it wasn’t often that Steve encountered single fathers. There were fathers and daughters spending time together, mothers and sons even but never father and son with no sign of a mother in sight. Instead of asking too many questions about the mystery woman, he listened. 

"Aw, that’s sounds no fun but I agree. I love coming to work here every day and having a funnel cake for breakfast." Steve replied with a wide smile. Finally, he was all prepared and ready to paint. "Alrighty!" He exclaimed in excitement. "How many stripes do you want?"

"100!" Peter yelled out with a big laugh.

Tony shook his head, a smile painted over his lip as he looked down at his enthusiastic son. “Make it ten, your face is way too small for all that.”

Peter closed his eyes as Steve began painting around his lids. 

"How long have you been doing this? Think as much as we come, I would’ve seen you a time or two." Tony asked, making small talk.

Steve thought about it for a minute. “I’m usually all the way by the ferris wheel but they made a new layout this year, they wanted us by the door so here I am. My best friend used to run the place, mostly, then I switched out with him at night but this time, we decided to change it up.” 

Tony nodded, looking around at the passing fair goers. “Like painting brats faces all day?’

Steve chuckled, not sure to be honest or lie for the sake of getting five dollars. “Yeah, I mean, I thought i’d be doing more than this some years ago but I like it. I like making them happy.” Steve thought about various questions himself. “So, what about you? Do you have a job you love?”

"I wish. It’s mostly paperwork, answering the phone, and helping old people figure out how their TVs work and why the remote won’t work."

Tony’s eyes danced around Steve as he tried not to stare. It was difficult, really. The man was good looking, sickeningly handsome in a way that they only made movie stars or athletes. Tony knew that he was out of his league, perhaps not even on his team but he had to give it a shot, right? What was life all about if it’s not taking a chance, he mused to himself.

"I’m sure this is how you score all the single moms, am I right?" Tony asked hoping to be wrong.

Steve laughed lightly. “Not particularly.”  His voice was tight, as if he was resisting the urge to say too much by only saying so little, he hoped Tony caught wind of the hint he was dropping. It wasn’t as evident as Tony but Steve found the proud father to be quite good looking. Sure, he didn’t really care for kids at times but it was something he was sure to get over it if it meant being with a man like Tony. 

"I don’t like girls. I think they’re mean and shallow." Peter admitted.

"Where’d you get that from?" Tony wondered.

"Auntie Pep. She said girls are shallow and stupid and they never know what they want. Isnt’ that why you don’t like girls dad?"

Steve felt his eyes shoot up to the man standing before him. Tony was uncomfortable, embarrassed possibly but Steve did all he could not to make matters worse. 

Tony leaned down to his son, leaning in to speak only so lowly. Steve could still hear. “Peter, let’s talk about this another time.” 

There was an awkward tension filling the small space the three were enveloped inside but Steve refused to be the only one left in the closet. “That’s why I don’t like girls. I wouldn’t say they’re shallow but I agree with your aunt, they never know what they want.”

The brush was tickling Peter’s skinny cheeks before his mouth and eyes were wide and gaped. “You like boys?” He whispered not so lowly. 

Steve chuckled Looking up at Tony who was staring at him waiting for his answer. “Yes, I do. it’s not a secret anymore so you don’t have to whisper.”

Tony felt the faint grin warming up his face. “Well then.” He said lowly as he tried to look someplace else that wasn’t Steve’s baby face. 

Peter began to giggle. “I have an idea! Dad, date Steve so he can paint my face all the time! I can be a different animal everyday and all the kids at school would be jealous!”

Tony gently squeezed his son’s shoulder. “That’s not how it works, kiddo. See, first I have to ask him if he likes kids which I can tell since he paints their faces all day long. Then, I have to think of a night I know you’ll stay at your aunts, which is usually Wednesday, and see if his schedule is all clear. Lastly, I have to say, would you like to go out with me on Wednesday, and wait for an answer.”

Peter was confused, glancing a look at his father then to Steve. “So, did you ask him or are you going to ask him?”

Steve shook his head as the smile across his face widened. “And when he asks me, I’ll say Wednesday is a great day for me and I’d love to go on a date with him. But I have to wait until he ask, of course.”

Peter frowned at his confusion. “I don’t think I like anyone if boys make stuff this complicated, too.”


	14. BFFs Forever

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> ANON SUGGESTED - Can you write deaf!Clint Barton who has trouble with his aids at a safehouse and Natasha who can understand his signing and signs back to help him feel better. He didn’t know she knew ASL but he didn’t know also that she learned it for him when she found out about it after she hacked his file years ago. it’s as close to they get at confirming their love for each other while pretending they’re just friends.

They had a system: Natasha would crawl through the air ducts, snaking through the structure as Clint kept watch outside, one eye pinched shut with the other one focused through bow scope. He was the fly on the wall, the shadow on the rooftop who left each henchmen with the feeling that they were being watched.

And they were.

"Alright, Barton. I’m going in."

Clint nodded out of habit. The was silence over the airwaves before Natasha lightly cleared her throat. “Clear. Sorry, clear.” Clint said in return. 

There were murmurs coming from the room below Nat, talks about their previous weekend and women with tight buns. It was always fun to crash the party, jumping on their backs and snapping their necks as the two talked to themselves. And she did just that. Slipping through the vent unto the neck of distracted henchmen, she twisted around snapping his neck between her thighs while punching the other carotid artery. It was a graceful landing on her behalf while the two men hitting the floor with a loud thud.

"Well, that was very Black Swan of you." Clint’s smile was crooked, a silly thing he caught himself doing when it pertained to Nat. They were friends, nothing more and nothing less. Steve told him a time or two about how high she built her walls, how her lingering stares weren’t because of his odd behavior. She loved the weird things he did, his outlandish behavior and dry sense of humor that she silently laughed at.

Steve’s never been wrong. 

Clint brushed it off. Natasha was creeping along the hall when Clint noticed two more men around the corner. “Whoa. Stop. Two more-” Another man walked into the hall from inside a room. “Three. Be-“

There was a loud beep, a noise the almost knocked him off his feet and tricking down the side of the building. Suddenly, it was all quiet. A small murmur, a little above a low whisper could be heard through the earpiece. Natasha spun on her toes, whipping around to look out the window as she waved her arms to catch his attention. Clint spoke lowly. “Nat, I can’t …” The noise and sound around him came to a jolting halt.

Her arms dropped to her side, her eyes wide and worried as she waved frantically for his attention. Placing her hand to her chin with all fingers but her thumb and pinky folded. “ _What’s wrong?_ ”

Clint was completely unaware that Natasha knew sign language. It wasn’t much of a surprise, since she picked up the slack for the smarts that he lacked, but that she knew about  _him_. 

With a deep sigh leaving his lungs, Clint brought his hands to his chest as he began to sign. “ _I think it’s best we abort mission._ ”

There was a look on her face, a look that Clint had only ever seen once when she returned from the mission with Steve. Perhaps it was sadness, her lips perched to one side as she looked around before nodding reluctantly. Clint knew she knew, Clint knew she understood why. 

A henchmen was turning the corner. Eye wide and mouth ajar, Clint waved his hands for her attention. “ _Behind you._ " 

Nat spun around with her leg extended, a swift kick to the man’s neck. He stumbled back, stunned and unaware of what happened. It took only a second for Nat to jump back into the vent, snake through the airways until he began to fire. Shooting aimlessly at the air duct, Nat crawled faster. The other two henchmen crowded around the third, constructing a plan as Clint leaned closer to read their lips. 

"Nat, hurry it up, they may be planning to kill you when you come out the vents in the basement." His voice was loud, or so he believed.

It was difficult living in the silence. This part was the hardest, being trapped inside this box of solitude as his partner roamed the world without his eyes and medically assisted ears. Perhaps that was the problem, though it was never much of an issue before but he wasn’t a superhero like Steve; he couldn’t hear from miles away or even knew when someone across the room mentioned his name. Clint was Clint, Hawkeye without the hawk ears. 

The seconds were ticking away and Nat was still nowhere to be found. “Don’t die.” He whispered to himself as he scanned each window looking for her face. 

There was a tap on his shoulder. Swinging around with such might and force, his bow was in hand and at the ready before he even had a chance to fully process the thought of doing so. Natasha was smiling, eyebrow raised as she looked over his arrow directed at the space between her eyes. “ _Missed me?_ " Her hands motioned and moved.

Clint lowered the bow, arrow back in quiver before he huffed out a stiff sigh. “You know how I feel about being snuck up on.” He spoke aloud. Natasha tilted her head to the side as she spoke so quickly, her lips moving a million miles an hour as Clint stood before her dumbfounded. Returning his bow to his back as well, Clint waved his hands. “ _I have no idea what you’re saying._ ”

“ _Did your aids die?_ ”

Clint flicked his tongue over his bottom lip. “ _How’d you know?_ ”

“ _Why didn’t you tell me?_ ”

With his hand to his cheek, he motioned his hand away while shaking his head. “ _Don’t know._ ”

Her hands were before her, looking as if she were gripping a rope with both hands. “ _You should trust me._ ”

Clint sighed, looking around before raising his to scratch his forehead. The men below were outside with guns in hand. “ _Time to go._ ”

*

"So you just learned ASL one day for the hell of it?" Clint verbally asked. Natasha changed the battery at the beginning of their ride. 

"Not exactly." She answered lowly. "Read your file some time ago and since Fury told me that we were the best agent for me to be paired with, I took it upon myself to learn about you."

"Asking a few questions wouldn’t hurt either."

Rolling her eyes, focusing her attention to whatever was out the window.

"Wait, so what you’re telling me is you learned it for me?"

She was silent for a second, mulling over her answer of not wanting to show too much and not wanting to say too little. “Isn’t that what friends do?” Friend was a word that neither of the two would openly admit was too less of a word for their relationship. 

"Tony doesn’t know sign language." Clint replied quickly.

"Tony hates you."

"Bruce or Steve don’t." 

"You don’t go on missions with them."

Clint thought about all his ‘friends’. “Thor doesn’t.”

"Thor has an entire world to run." Natasha rebuttaled. "Plus, who knows what Thor knows?" 

Clint smiled. “Alright. BFFs forever.”

Natasha fought off a laugh. “F means forever.”

"No the F means friend."

"The second one."

"There’s only one F in friend."


	15. Stalker

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> anon suggested:  
> ↳ Steve has a stalker, but won't tell anyone because he doesn't want them to become targets. Tony finds out anyway. That same night, while he's coming home, Steve is ambushed by his stalker (who to his surprise possesses superhuman traits). The man tries to fondle and kidnap Steve, but he's foiled by a furious Tony and the team. Later, Tony scolds Steve for not speaking up, assuring him that he can always tell his teammates - especially Tony - about his problems.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I’ve noticed a lot of people get this prompt and I’m more than sure it’s been done a million ways but I’m glad it landed in my lap so here it is.

Steve laced his fingers together as he looked amongst the crowd of zealous and eager fans. They were dressed like fellow superheroes, some he knew well and other he knew so little about. With a quivering smile painted over his face, he looked at all the faces in a way that took the joy right out his system.

His cell phone vibrated, his chest becoming tight as the fear and uncerrtainty washed over him.

"Captain America!" The speaker yelled into the microphone as hundreds of people clapped and hooted in joy. Steve stood to his feet, waving his hand with a wide smile then quickly returned to his seat.

"Iron Man!" The speaker yelled shortly afterward. Tony, doing the same as Steve, returned to his sit after squeezing Steve’s shoulder a good time.

HeroCon, or something, was something that newly arose shortly after the Avengers assembled. Steve was told the history of conventions and why they were so important in today’s society but at the moment, he was caught up in his own personal despair.

Another vibration. Natasha looked over at him, raising an eyebrow with confusion written all over her face. Steve shook his header, the announcer spoke so loudly over the speakers.

"We’ll now be taking a round of questions for the Avengers."

Another vibration. Steve felt his lungs tense, a stiff breath leaving his constricted air way. Fishing his phone from his pocket, his heartbeat was rigid. This was all a familiar feeling: the fear, shortness of breath, beads of sweat seeping from every pore - he was about to have an anxiety attack.

The screen illuminated under the table cloth, the THREE NEW MESSAGES notification causing his brain and heart to race a million miles a hour.

 

_You look nice today. (2:49pm)_  
 _I love your smile so much. (2:51pm)_  
 _I love you. I love you so much. I couldn’t get to sleep last night because I couldn’t stop thinking about you touching me and kissing me and I just couldn’t stop touching myself. I wish you could understand how I felt. I don’t wanna hurt you, I don’t want to but you need to understand how I feel, Cpt Rogers. Please, give me a chance. (2:53pm)_

Steve shook his head. A deep sigh entered his lungs but was trapped inside.

"Steve." Natasha leaned over and whispered with her hand over her mic. "What’s the matter with you?"

Steve shook his head again. “Nothing, just not feeling too good.” He was afraid but not for himself, for everyone else. The text began a few days ago, starting of as sweet and flattering while still dancing on the intrusive side. Now, it was all overwhelming and overbearing. The text went from compliments to vulgar sexual suggestions and now, threats. Threats on his life, his friends and as much as he wanted to turn to Tony, with his large brain of technologic knowledge, he couldn’t. Ever since the beginning of the Avengers, he felt a little less independent in his skills and abilities to take care of himself. Also, he didn’t know what he was dealing with. Steve believed Hydra had to be behind this somehow, someway, trying to ruin his life the best way they could but he was uncertain after spending a few hours on the internet learning about stalkers. Stalker, such a strong word and yet, still an unecessary way of treating someone you admired so dearly. Steve wanted to take care of this on his own without worrying the others.

"You’re never nervous." She retorted, her voice plain and matter-of-fact.

Tony couldn’t stop peeking over at the whispering pair. Following the same lead, placing a hand over his mic, he leaned over to Steve and whispered, “Golden Girls, what’s the problem?”

"Captain Full-of-it over here has something going on and won’t talk about it." Natasha yelled within a whisper.

The phone vibrated again in his hand. Every organ inside of him was shutting down one by one, it felt, from the lack of oxygen entering and escaping his body. “Look!” He said a bit louder than he wanted to. “It’s nothing, alright? I’m just feeling uneasy. Maybe it was something I ate last night but don’t worry about it.” He was whispering this time, focusing his attention to the line of ‘heroes’ in line ready to ask questions. Another vibration.

Tony glanced down at the device then back to a sweaty Captain Rogers. “Put your claws away, Nat. If there was something going on, he’d tell us, right Rogers?” Steve looked at the two, nodding reluctantly.

_DON’T TELL THEM ANYTHING! I don’t want to have to hurt you. I don’t want to have to hurt them but I will. (2:58pm)_  
 _Tell them anything and you’ll regret it. (2:58pm)_

_They don’t know anything. Trust me, this is between us. (2:58pm)_

Tony continued to stare as Steve text back, Steve was well aware. It was awkward between them, the flirts and bickering, he didn’t know if he was cooming on to him or setting him up to blow him into a million pieces yet Steve tried to think nothing of it.

*

"Fooooooood." Clint groaned out with aa mouth full of pizza.

Tony and Bruce devoured their slices before the others went in for a second bite. Thor dropped over his plate, slowly eating the slice as he tried to keep his eyes open. The con was an all-day event, tiring out each person beyond their norm.

"I’m not hungry." Steve stated while pushing away the plate. "I think I’m just gonna head back to the tower."

Natasha looked from under her brow at the blonde. Tony glanced over as well, looking at Natasha before leaning back in his seat. “I’ll call Happy.”

"I’ll walk." Steve interjected, waving at the group. "I need some fresh air after all that."

"See you at home." Clint managed to get out with a mouth overflowing with pepperonies and crust.

  
Tony coughed as he waved, flicking two fingers in a goodbye salute as Steve headed towads the door. They were all quiet, their worry bubbling over before Natasha finally spoke.

"He has a stalker."

"I know." Tony replied, biting into a slice while watching the door. "I hacked into his phone yesterday because he’s never secretive about that stupid thing. I don’t know who it is yet. It’s someone smart, not as smart as me, but someone who knows what they’re doing. I don’t know what he’s planning but I don’t think it’s wise."

"Who knew you were the protective on in the relationship, Stark" Cint said with stuffed cheeks.

Tony glared at the dirty blonde before slipping from his seat, Nat abruptly following.

*

Steve took a deep breathe as he waited at the train station.

_I’m here. (8:57pm)_

It was hard to digust what he had planned, what half cracked idea of whatever sort of plan he had. It was easy to toss a shield at someone but this was someone who he couldn’t spot ouut of a crowd. Of course, he was alone, a bum sleeping in the corner and someone else with headphoones keeping them company. They weren’t his enemies, they weren’t his allegied stalker. Steve who was afraid of his phone hours ago was checking for texts almost every minute. It was sickening to think about the admirer, since Steve felt disgusted with calling him or her a stalker.

"Steve." A voice called out to him. Steve peered over his shoulder, meeting the barrel of a gun before he threw his hands up. "Follow me." Steve tried to see their face, hidden by a hood and maybe a ski mask but he wasn’t sure. They grabbed him by his collar, pushing him in the diection of the stairs that led straight to the vehicle. Now, they were close, poking hte gun into his ribcage as they were only a hair length away. Their other hand swiped over his ass a time or two, Steve feeling the tension tingle up his spine and all over his muscles. Spinning on his toes with a ready fist, Steve aimed for the face. The anonymous terrorizer caught his punch, twisting his wrist as he pushed Steve down the stairs. Steve hit the ground with a hard thud, his entire left side aching in pain.

There was a brawl, Steve catching himself on the rail before slinging his body back up into person on the stairs. He deflected the kick, grabbing Steve’s legs before flipping the man back down the stairs.

"We could’ve have something, Captain Rogers! We still can!" The mysterious person yelled out while raising the gun to a hurt Steve. The gun was pointed at Steve’s skull, the stranger walking down the stairs before being met by a quick blast to the chest.

"I don’t think so." Tony stated from within his suit.

Natasha had the mystery man pinned to the ground, pulling off his ski mask with a forceful jerk. “What’s your name?”

"Bob."

Tony aimed at him again, removing the mask to let his face be seen. “Don’t fuck with us, asshat.”

"David, it’s David."

"Get him out of here."

*

"You hacked my phone, didn’t you?"

Tony’s eyes brows jumped up his forehead. “Of course, I did!” Turning around to face the bruised man, he placed his hands on his hips. “What the hell is your problem, Steve? WHy didn’t you tell us? Do you think you’re the superhuman super soldier with this inability to confine in his teammates? We’re here for a reason, we look out for each other and you not telling us … what if something happened to you?”

Steve felt like a child, small and inferior as Tony scalded him but straightening his back to stand tall once again, Steve shook his head. “I didn’t tell you because I can’t rely on you, I didn’t tell you because I didn’t want any of you hurt. I wanted to do this for myself, I wanted to put him down, lock him away and just forget about it. I wanted to prove something to myself, if that matters.”

"You don’t get to be angry here, Steve. We care, alright? I care about you and you could’ve been shot in the face by some crazy who said they loved you." Tony shook his head. "I’m in love with an idiot. Go figure."

Steve smirked as he held a hand over the bandage wrapped tight around his ribs. “You’re great at showing it.”

"You want me to send you creepy text? I can send you the creepiest of text. JARVIS, where’s my phone?"

Steve couldn’t fight off a laugh.


	16. The Sniffles

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> anon suggested:  
> ↳ Tony comes home late, soaked to the bone from the thunderstorm outside (with a possible cold.) Steve goes all mother hen and takes care of his freezing boyfriend.

Steve was known for his patience. It was no surprise to Natasha that when she passed by him twice, he hadn’t moved much from his previous position.

“I’m sure when you finally move, there’ll be a outline of dust around you.”

Steve snickered lowly with a small smirk on his face. “Going somewhere?”

“Out, for once in my boring little life.” Nat crossed her arms as she looked out the window. “Clint wanted to go to the park but since it’s raining, we’re going to grab something to eat. Where’s Tony?”

Steve tried not to sigh as he thought about it. “Work. He said he’ll be late so I’m just drawing up a few things.”

There was a smile budding up in Natasha’s cherry blushed cheeks. “It gets worse so give him a call. I’m out of here before I drown waiting for a cab.”

“You kids don’t stay out too late.” Steve joked, looking up at the women from under his brow.

“Haha, goodnight grandpa.”

The elevator closed and Steve was all alone. It wasn’t his favorite thing, being alone without knowing when or if Tony would be coming home tonight.

“JARVIS.” Steve called out, eyes glued to the paper.

“Yes sir?”

“Can you please tell Mr. Stark to come home soon before he gets struck by lightning? We all know how the heavens have something against him.” Steve was worried, and as much as he was trying to hide he fact, JARVIS was well aware from the tone of his voice.

“Indeed, sir.”

*

“Captain Rogers?” JARVIS spoke lightly into the dimly lit bedroom. Steve had finally decided to retire to bed a while ago. Reaching out to the rub the void on the other side of the bed, Steve realized that Tony still hadn’t come home.

“Tony’s home?” He spoke with a gruff, scratchy voice. Pulling his face from the pillow, he looked around to find evidence of him being there.

“He’s been in the lab, sir. He advised me not to inform you about his vitals but it seems as if he has a high fever and a troubling cough.”

“Tony.” Steve whispered as he pulled himself from the bed entirely. In an instant he was on the elevator, down four floors, and standing before Tony’s lab with mumbles and grunts coming from his tired lungs. Punching in his personal pin and scanning the side of his hand, Steve slid open the door to the sound of nauseating coughs and hacks. “Glad you made it home safe.” The thunder shook the tower. “And I’m so glad Thor didn’t have to shoot you down to get you here.”

“Wouldn’t be the first time I had to fight the guy. Definitely-“ A loud, harsh sneeze. Tony wiped at his nose before sliding the sickening hand up and down his pants. “Won’t be the last time.”

“You’re sick.”

“I’m not sick! Tony Stark does not get sick.” The words come out in a croak, another sneeze flying into the more ready Kleenex that Tony quickly snatched as it released. “Okay, I got struck but the suit took most of the damage. I took it off and dragged it home but the rain was bad and for some reason there wasn’t a single fucking cab running and I’m just a little, a little-“ Achoo. A louder and harder sneeze, his nose filling with mucus as he tried to finish his sentence. Steve stood with his arms crossed, resisting the urge to coddle the sick, stubborn man but there were more sneezes, more hacking coughs and sniffling that reminded Steve of just how tenacious the man really was.

Grunting in irritation and annoyance, Steve walked over to Tony and grabbed his wrist. “Let’s go, we’re getting you out those wet clothes first.”

“No, I have work to do.”

“You’re sick, you’re contaminating everything down here and you’re going to be pissed about it a week from now when you’re not getting any better and then blame me for not talking you out of leaving the lab to get better. Not today, shellhead.”

Tony smiled, a choked up snort escaping his open mouth. “I love it when you call me that. It really shows me that you care.”

“I don’t care, I just have no patience for your sneezing and coughing.”

They were on the elevator, Tony looking form under his lashes at the obviously bothered Steve who looked ahead with arms folded. “Can I help you?”

“No, nothing at all. Just enjoying this tantrum you’re having.”

“Tantrum? You stay out there when it’s raining cats and dogs and you’re telling me I’m having a tantrum because you’re too stupid to come in, take off your wet clothes and get into something a little more warm? Now you’re sick-“ Another sneeze blowing from Tony’s pinched lips, blocked by his weakening arm. “Even though I advised you to come home right away since I knew this storm was going to get worse before it got better. You don’t get to call me looking out for you a tantrum.”

Tony was still smiling, a condescending grin as he licked his lips slowly. “I thought you didn’t care.” His voice was more nasally as the sneezes continued.

Steve looked over at the man as the elevator eased to a stop. “Let’s go.”

Tony followed, slow and slouched slightly as his knees were no longer able to carry his weight. He was sick, sadly, too sick to continue walking and way too sick to even put up a fight against the nurturing Steve.

“Take your clothes off.” Steve’s voice was demanding, arms still folded.

Tony choked out a laugh, the disgusting brash laugh that signified something rather frisky was being said. He was sick, but he wasn’t  _that_  sick. “I’m too tired, help me, Steve. I need you Captain America.”

“Ugh, shut up.” Steve spat out at he began to pull Tony’s damp shirt off his pruned skin. First it was the two layers of shirts, then the pants, still somewhat soaked as he unbuttoned them to slide the off. “You can take your own underwear off.”

“Steve, I’m sick. Look at me, I’m helpless. Steeb.”

Rolling his eyes, Steve clenched his jaw as he continued to disrobe that man. Snatching the robe from the bathroom, Steve tossed it at Tony. “Put that on and find some clothes while I make you some tea.”

Tony slid his arms into the sleeves as he looked back at the annoyed Avenger with a flickering glimmer in his eye. “Ooh, can I have soup?” His voice was softer than normal, innocent and child-like.

“No, Tony, you don’t get soup. I’m too busy throwing a tantrum to make soup.”

Tony wrapped the robe around himself as he slithered into the bed to wait for Steve to return. The echoing of pots clanging and banging against one another brought a silly grin to his face. It wasn’t often that Steve cared as much as he did, he wasn’t always annoyed by Tony’s arrogance but when it came to his safety, it disturbed Steve in a number of ways. Tony liked it.

Slipping in and out of consciousness, Tony sneezed and let out exasperated groans as his irritation grew with his sickly behavior. “What’s taking so long? I just want drugs.” Tony mumbled out as Steve returned with a bowl and coffee mug.

“Third degree burns aren’t fun so sit up.”

“If only Americans knew that this was who fought for them. Treating me like some sort of lesser human. How rude, Rogers.”

Steve’s face was deadpan. “You want the soup or not?”

Tony zipped his lips.

Steve blew on the hot noodles, slowly feeding the manchild, Steve cracked a smile.

“Did you call me’ Steeb’?”

Tony nodded. “Yep. You wouldn’t fight a sick, old man, would you?”

Steve kissed the man’s forehead.


	17. Clint, World's Worst Babysitter

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> avengersasssemble suggested:  
> ↳ Something where Natasha gets babified and Clint has to put up with this assassin child and eventually drafts Bucky to get her to sit still for five goddamn minutes.

"Oh, Barton." Tony croaked as he looked down at the small child running around, screaming in joy and innocent at the top of her lung. "You’re in for it."

 

"Stark, tell me you know how to turn her back." Clint begged with his hands clasped together.

Tony took a deep breath, a smile slapped across his stupid face as he tried not to laugh at Clint’s begging face and also the fact that Natasha was peeing in the middle of the floor. “Unlike you, bird brain, I can figure out anything. Sadly, I don’t know how to reverse this but give me about two hours.”

"Two hours? With a baby? A baby Natasha? The hell am I supposed to do with her?"

"I suggest giving her a diaper before she goes number two on your couch next." Tony advised, pointing at the straining baby. Clint peered over his shoulder, quickly running to scoop up the small child. The bathroom was the destination, dangling her nethers above the seat as she squirmed and giggled. "Two hours, Barton!" Tony yelled out as he left the archers filthy apartment.

"I don’t have two hours!" Clint yelled out, tiny Natasha yelling out over him as she grunted in discomfort. There was a foul smell arising, Clint’s facing twitching and turning as he looked down at what was taking place. "Oh God, Nat, no!" His request was useless. Natasha was squeezing all the muscles inside her small 23 inch body. "Can’t unsee." Clint whispered and repeated.

"Poooooo!" Nat yelled out with her hands scratching at her thigh. What a fat thigh it was. hat a fat baby she was. Her stomach full of small baby rolls, as well as the abundance of cheeks on her face and cute little behind. Clint didn’t know a kid could be so cute, though, at that moment, he wasn’t been able to relish in her cuteness since the entire bathroom smelled like something had rotted, went to the bathroom, then died while mid-turd.

"Okay, what do you wipe baby buts with?" Looking around the room for something, anything that could properly clean her, Clint failed. The tissue roll was empty, one ply hanging on for dear life. Face towel, Clint thought as he looked over to find a pile knee high of dirty towels. Taking an old shirt, he sucked in his last breath of fresh air before manuevering his way around her to wipe her butt.

"I don’t think I want kids anymore."

*

 Natasha was squealing at the top of her lungs, throwing everything that occupied the coffee table onto the floor with a celebratory yell. Clint was rummaging the cabinets trying to find food that was good enough for a small child without teeth. The thought alone of her with no teeth made him uncomfortable.

“Crackers, mustard, ketchup, bread.” Picking up the loaf from the counter, he spotted the mold spreading growing under all the slices. “You can’t eat that. I shouldn’t eat that. No one should eat that.” Quickly tossing it into the garbage, Clint sighed before he looked back over to find the room to be shockingly quiet. “Oh no.” He mused as he ran over to the trashed living room to find it empty. “Natasha!” Clint called out as he slowly traced over the room while looking for the small child. “Natasha, I have some Vienna sausages for you! Mmm, so good, doesn’t taste like raccoon or pig knuckle at all.” It was still quiet. Clint tossed dirty clothes about as he searched for his phone. “I have to call Bucky.”

There was a muffled yelled from the corner of the room. Clint looked at the filthy pile of clothes, slowly crawling towards the heap before a small screaming Natasha came running out, pushing the man on his ass. Phone still in hand, the ex-carnie took in a stiff breath as he dialed Bucky’s number. “Hey Bucky, how’s it going? Still snagging up all those fridge door magnets when you walk by it? … No, don’t hang up, look, I need your help. Nat and I were on this mission and it was crazy. This guy has this ray gun that turned people into babies and it was stupid and crazy and she’s peeing and pooping all over the place and I lost her under a pile of clothes. I’m no good with kids, man. Plus I don’t really think she likes me. Help me?”

*

The small apartment echoed from the sound of a hard knock on the door. Clint jumped from his hiding spot behind the bed. Flinging himself down the stairs to the front door, it flung open as Bucky stood with his arms crossed, hair in a loose topknot as he held out a bag full of necessary baby things.

“Bucky-“

“Where is she?”

Clint looked around, his eyes wide and mouth gapped open as he realized he lost the small child. “I … have no idea.”

Bucky grunted, stepping inside to look around as he scanned the filth of a living room before spotting her hiding spot. “You two are pathetic.” H mumbled as he scooped the child from her fort of foul smelling apparel. Natasha yelled in joy, a scream that made Clint stop his ears.

With a hand on the back of her skull, Bucky shushed her as she rested her noggin on his shoulder. “Clean off the couch.”

Tossing all that occupied the couch, Clint looked back at the sleeping child with wide eyes. Bucky laid her down gently. Stepping back to silently relish in his skill, Clint and he stood shoulder to shoulder with a small space between them, staring at the sleeping baby spy.

“How’d you do that?”

“It’s the arm.”

“Really?”

“No, I have no idea.”


	18. Mopher Hen Steve

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> anon suggested:
> 
> Tony comes home late, soaked to the bone from the thunderstorm outside (with a possible cold.) Steve goes all mother hen and takes care of his freezing boyfriend.

Steve was known for his patience. It was no surprise to Natasha that when she passed by him twice, he hadn’t moved much from his previous position.

“I’m sure when you finally move, there’ll be a outline of dust around you.”

Steve snickered lowly with a small smirk on his face. “Going somewhere?”

“Out, for once in my boring little life.” Nat crossed her arms as she looked out the window. “Clint wanted to go to the park but since it’s raining, we’re going to grab something to eat. Where’s Tony?”

Steve tried not to sigh as he thought about it. “Work. He said he’ll be late so I’m just drawing up a few things.”

There was a smile budding up in Natasha’s cherry blushed cheeks. “It gets worse so give him a call. I’m out of here before I drown waiting for a cab.”

“You kids don’t stay out too late.” Steve joked, looking up at the women from under his brow.

“Haha, goodnight grandpa.”

The elevator closed and Steve was all alone. It wasn’t his favorite thing, being alone without knowing when or if Tony would be coming home tonight.

“JARVIS.” Steve called out, eyes glued to the paper.

“Yes sir?”

“Can you please tell Mr. Stark to come home soon before he gets struck by lightning? We all know how the heavens have something against him.” Steve was worried, and as much as he was trying to hide he fact, JARVIS was well aware from the tone of his voice.

“Indeed, sir.”

*

“Captain Rogers?” JARVIS spoke lightly into the dimly lit bedroom. Steve had finally decided to retire to bed a while ago. Reaching out to the rub the void on the other side of the bed, Steve realized that Tony still hadn’t come home.

“Tony’s home?” He spoke with a gruff, scratchy voice. Pulling his face from the pillow, he looked around to find evidence of him being there.

“He’s been in the lab, sir. He advised me not to inform you about his vitals but it seems as if he has a high fever and a troubling cough.”

“Tony.” Steve whispered as he pulled himself from the bed entirely. In an instant he was on the elevator, down four floors, and standing before Tony’s lab with mumbles and grunts coming from his tired lungs. Punching in his personal pin and scanning the side of his hand, Steve slid open the door to the sound of nauseating coughs and hacks. “Glad you made it home safe.” The thunder shook the tower. “And I’m so glad Thor didn’t have to shoot you down to get you here.”

“Wouldn’t be the first time I had to fight the guy. Definitely-“ A loud, harsh sneeze. Tony wiped at his nose before sliding the sickening hand up and down his pants. “Won’t be the last time.”

“You’re sick.”

“I’m not sick! Tony Stark does not get sick.” The words come out in a croak, another sneeze flying into the more ready Kleenex that Tony quickly snatched as it released. “Okay, I got struck but the suit took most of the damage. I took it off and dragged it home but the rain was bad and for some reason there wasn’t a single fucking cab running and I’m just a little, a little-“ Achoo. A louder and harder sneeze, his nose filling with mucus as he tried to finish his sentence. Steve stood with his arms crossed, resisting the urge to coddle the sick, stubborn man but there were more sneezes, more hacking coughs and sniffling that reminded Steve of just how tenacious the man really was.

Grunting in irritation and annoyance, Steve walked over to Tony and grabbed his wrist. “Let’s go, we’re getting you out those wet clothes first.”

“No, I have work to do.”

“You’re sick, you’re contaminating everything down here and you’re going to be pissed about it a week from now when you’re not getting any better and then blame me for not talking you out of leaving the lab to get better. Not today, shellhead.”

Tony smiled, a choked up snort escaping his open mouth. “I love it when you call me that. It really shows me that you care.”

“I don’t care, I just have no patience for your sneezing and coughing.”

They were on the elevator, Tony looking form under his lashes at the obviously bothered Steve who looked ahead with arms folded. “Can I help you?”

“No, nothing at all. Just enjoying this tantrum you’re having.”

“Tantrum? You stay out there when it’s raining cats and dogs and you’re telling me I’m having a tantrum because you’re too stupid to come in, take off your wet clothes and get into something a little more warm? Now you’re sick-“ Another sneeze blowing from Tony’s pinched lips, blocked by his weakening arm. “Even though I advised you to come home right away since I knew this storm was going to get worse before it got better. You don’t get to call me looking out for you a tantrum.”

Tony was still smiling, a condescending grin as he licked his lips slowly. “I thought you didn’t care.” His voice was more nasally as the sneezes continued.

Steve looked over at the man as the elevator eased to a stop. “Let’s go.”

Tony followed, slow and slouched slightly as his knees were no longer able to carry his weight. He was sick, sadly, too sick to continue walking and way too sick to even put up a fight against the nurturing Steve.

“Take your clothes off.” Steve’s voice was demanding, arms still folded.

Tony choked out a laugh, the disgusting brash laugh that signified something rather frisky was being said. He was sick, but he wasn’t  _that_  sick. “I’m too tired, help me, Steve. I need you Captain America.”

“Ugh, shut up.” Steve spat out at he began to pull Tony’s damp shirt off his pruned skin. First it was the two layers of shirts, then the pants, still somewhat soaked as he unbuttoned them to slide the off. “You can take your own underwear off.”

“Steve, I’m sick. Look at me, I’m helpless. Steeb.”

Rolling his eyes, Steve clenched his jaw as he continued to disrobe that man. Snatching the robe from the bathroom, Steve tossed it at Tony. “Put that on and find some clothes while I make you some tea.”

Tony slid his arms into the sleeves as he looked back at the annoyed Avenger with a flickering glimmer in his eye. “Ooh, can I have soup?” His voice was softer than normal, innocent and child-like.

“No, Tony, you don’t get soup. I’m too busy throwing a tantrum to make soup.”

Tony wrapped the robe around himself as he slithered into the bed to wait for Steve to return. The echoing of pots clanging and banging against one another brought a silly grin to his face. It wasn’t often that Steve cared as much as he did, he wasn’t always annoyed by Tony’s arrogance but when it came to his safety, it disturbed Steve in a number of ways. Tony liked it.

Slipping in and out of consciousness, Tony sneezed and let out exasperated groans as his irritation grew with his sickly behavior. “What’s taking so long? I just want drugs.” Tony mumbled out as Steve returned with a bowl and coffee mug.

“Third degree burns aren’t fun so sit up.”

“If only Americans knew that this was who fought for them. Treating me like some sort of lesser human. How rude, Rogers.”

Steve’s face was deadpan. “You want the soup or not?”

Tony zipped his lips.

Steve blew on the hot noodles, slowly feeding the manchild, Steve cracked a smile.

“Did you call me’ Steeb’?”

Tony nodded. “Yep. You wouldn’t fight a sick, old man, would you?”

Steve kissed the man’s forehead.


	19. Secrets

Tony didn’t want to ask. He didn’t want to think about the situation or anything revolving around it so instead he worked. Welding metal to metal, alunimun alloys to iron, it was all he could do to take his mind off …  _it_. The thing that made his skin crawl and his stomach churn, the thing that made him look over at the whiskey three times. A fourth time just because he thought about looking.

Jarvis hummed to life as his voice covered the room. “Sir, you told me to inform you upon Captain Rogers arrival.”

"Thanks, J."

"Would you like for me to tell him that you’d like to see him?"

Tony thought it over, pulling his goggles down around his neck. A stiff air entered his lungs before he squeezed the goggles back over his eyes. “No, thank you.”

"No problem, sir."

They weren’t an item, they weren’t even a thing but they had  _something_. They shared something that he refused to give to another human being after Pepper called it quits. It was being Iron Man that made her split and as much as he wanted to blame her, he couldn’t. He didn’t. Then there was the sulking, the sadness followed by the drinking until Steve was tired of carrying him off to bed. Steve hated Tony’s guts, you didn’t need a genius to tell you that, but Steve stopped hating him at some point and began to pity him. Tony was drunk, sloppy and emotional, lying across Steve’s arms like a dead fish. He smelled it, Steve informed him. There was something about that strong chin, the stern face hard and emotionless. Somewhere, somehow Tony felt his heart flutter to life a time or two whenever he felt Steve’s wrapped around his torso to remove his shirt and pulling at his ankles to disrobe him. It wasn’t until that one night that Steve’s hands were warm on his skin, when his strong jaw clenched just at the right time that in the middle of being disrobed Tony kissed him. Their tongues dancing to a song of secrecy and hidden desire that neither of the two wanted to ever speak of. This was a one time special, Tony told himself. One time for the sake of knowing, another time for the sake of wanting, and a few more times because the sex was better than drinking and as much as Tony knew he was mending a broken heart with sex that lacked dialogue, he knew there was passion. There was  _something_ , they had  _something_.

"Tony?" He heard someone yell out over the welding. He didn’t stop. His heart and his head disagreed a many of times but right now, they were all in sync. "Tony!"

Against his will, he paused. “What is it?”

"I was just coming to see how you were doing. You seemed a bit upset today before the mission and I wanted to make sure you weren’t drinking."

"Obviously not. Thanks for the concern, Mr. Mom, but I’m busy." His voice was cold, hard and obviously angry. 

Steve huffed. “And you’ve also been avoiding me all day. I thought you said this wasn’t going to get weird.”

"For you information, Cap, I’m not making it weird. It’s not weird. I haven’t been avoiding you, I’ve been thinking about some things and right now, I’d like to work on those things," he looked over his shoulder as Steve began to walk over to the couch, "in peace."

Steve paused a second before flopping down on the sofa. “Peggy told me you came by.”

"She’s old and delirious. She probably thought she saw Ronald Reagan, too."

"Hey, watch yourself, Tony. Do not bad mouth her."

Tony removed his goggles, sliding them down to his neck once more as he scooted around the lab on his wheeled stool. “Didn’t mean to insult your girlfriend there. I know how much you love your senior center rec time playing bridge with her and your barber’s quartet.”

Steve jumped up to his feet, face red with anger. “What the hell is your problem?”

Tony jumped from his seat and stood inches away from the angry soldier. “Did you and my father have something?”

Almost instantly, Steve was baffled. “Excuse me?”

"Peggy told me you two spent a lot of time together. She put a lot of emphasis on the word experiment. Hell, I’m sure he tried something on her a time or two since he spent way too much time away from us but she said you two shared a bond at some point."

"Tony," Steve said, his shoulders dropping as he reached a hand to touch the angry man before him.

"Don’t touch me and say my name softly like that makes everything better. Answer the fucking question, Steve. Did you and my dad fuck at some point in time?"

Steve sighed again, shaking his head softly as he bit the inside of his bottom lip. “I didn’t really like Howard. I respected him but all that sass and smartass was off-putting. We were friends to an extent but he was straight and, at the time, so was I - for the most part. He experimented with me because he wanted to know everything I could do. how fast I can run, how much I could pick up, how much damage I could take and how long it took to heal. We were strictly friends.”

Tony nodded, stepping back slowly before going back to his stool and his floating diagrams and blueprints.

"Is that it? You question me without telling me why you would ask?" The two were silent. Steve stood with his arms folded across his chest as he walked closer to the distracted Tony. "You’re the only Stark I can deal with for longer than 20 minutes."

Tony still said nothing his mouth fixed into a tight frown as he aimlessly flew holographic sheets across the sky. 

"I’ll be in the gym, if you ever decide to talk to me."

Steve walked around the desk to the door.

"I want this to be something. Not this sex and just slipping out when it’s over and never talking about whatever this is we have going on. I want to this. I want you. Alright?"

Steve let go of the door handle.


	20. Falling In Love At a Coffee Shop

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> stressedupsetsteverogersobsessed suggested:  
> Hipster!Steve working at a coffee shop, and Punk or Nerdy!Tony is a regular customer and they are both totally crushing on each other.

A quarter to four exactly.

Steve would never admit that he knew the time he arrived, and he would never admit that he ordered a vanilla iced coffee made with skim milk, whip on top with caramel to top it all off. It was all he ever wanted, all he ordered before sitting in the corner to come back twenty minutes later and order a piece of raspberry coffee cake. It was routine, it was expected, it was cute - at least Steve thought it was.

Tony would walk in, pushing his glasses to the top of his head like the world was bigger without the frames blocking his view. Steve knew he couldn’t see without them, he tried to guide himself to the table once and bumped into every table and person along the way but who was Steve to tell him that he looked better with them if he knew it made him just feel nice. Truth be told, Steve enjoyed everything about him. The glasses, the shaggy hair, the sweaters, the shoes that looked chewed up by angry wolves and his artistry. 

Every single day, Tony would order, take his seat in the corner and stare endlessly at the passing pedestrians before he began to draw building. Through random conversations he learned that the young student was an aspiring architect. Steve didn’t have faith in college and universities to teach him what he wanted to know in life but he respected Tony, adored his traditionalism. 

The bell above the cafe door chimed as Steve shook up his last order. “Right on time.” He said, his voice sultry but not unlike the way he commonly spoke to customers.

"As always." Tony replied, pushing his hair back with his glasses as he squinted at the board behind Steve.

Steve rang the bell for his finished drink, and slowly walked over to the register. Tony wasn’t tall at all, maybe reaching Steve’s nose. “The usual?”

Tony took a deep breath, twisting his face into an unsure grin as he shook his head. “I wanted to try something new.”

Steve’s eyebrows jumped up. “Really? What were you thinking?”

"Maybe an espresso?" Tony wasn’t sure, squinting harder and leaning closer to see what all they had to offer.

Steve laughed lowly as he reached to push the man’s glasses back down his face. “You look better like that anyway.”

Tony touched the rims, a bashful smirk across his lips as he tried not to dwell on the action at that moment. “I’ll have a mango raspberry iced tea. With a doughnut.”

"Alrighty then, let me make that for you." 

Tony followed the counter as Steve gathered up the ingredients for the flavorful mix. “You really think that?”

"What’s that?" Steve called from over his shoulder.

"That I look better with the glasses." Tony was a shy one, quiet in nature and waiting to be unravelled.

Steve shook the plastic mixer as he turned around. “Yeah, don’t you?”

"Not really. I’ve been debating on contacts. Just not fan of touching my eyeball, ya’know? Seems unsanitary."

Steve couldn’t resist the urge to laugh. “That’s why you wash your hands.”

"But that’s the thing, most soaps only kill a certain percent of germs. The bottles says 99% but studies have shown that some only kill up to 97 or 98.6% of germs. If it is 97, then how do we know that the last 3% of germs are the good ones?" 

Another chuckle. Steve poured the drink into the cup as he placed the lid on top and quickly began wiping his station. “Did you read that on Tumblr?” Tony shook his head, slightly confused. “Well, If that’s the case, keep the glasses. Makes you look older and way cuter. You walk in here without ‘em one day, I’d be devastated.”

Tony laughed this time, taking the drink and walking back towards the register. “How much?”

Steve looked around the empty establishment. “It’s on me.”

"Really? Thanks a lot." Tony said. Sipping the drink slowly, he closed his eyes in heavenly bliss before speaking. "You’re really good at this."

"Nah, just what they taught me." 

The loud ding of a phone made Tony jump slightly and quickly grab his phone. “I should get going, study group.”

"See you tomorrow?" The anxiousness was lingering in Steve’s tone. He felt hungry for an answer, slightly tapping his foot as he waiting ever so impatiently for an answer. 

"Of course." Tony smiled wide. "Guess I have to figure out a way to pay you back for the drink."

Steve felt his heart beating out his chest as his mouth fixed to say what he’d been waiting to say all year. “Maybe your phone number? Or a date?” He felt like he sounded desperate. “One where I’m not serving you drinks and cake.”

Tony looked around, his face bubbling with color and heat as he nodded. “Sounds great.”


	21. Tyler Durden

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> au angsty fighting story time. someone should force me to write fluff more often because if you don’t, I’ll hurt feels all the time.

"Hit me." Tony demanded as he shook loose his muscles throughout his arms and legs. The night was dark, darker than most since the moon hid behind the clouds and the street were scattered with life. 

The two were in an alley, a slim delivery alley behind a corner store that was shut down years ago for reasons no one could decide on. 

Steve was hesitant, his chest rising and falling as he was out of breath from their running. It was strange, and weird, but nonetheless exhilarating. “I’m not going to hit you.”

 

"The cops are searching the street. There’s on around the corner and if you don’t hit me, they’ll see our faces. I highly doubt they’ll think we just robbed a bank if we’re fighting in the alley like a couple of bums."

Steve was still heaving for air, looking around frantically as he thought about their chances of being seens as inconspicuous. “What if they know it’s us?”

Tony was out of breath as well, rubbing his forehead before he shook his head. “They won’t just trust me.” Swinging his head from side to, the joints in his neck cracking with each swing, Tony was preparing himself for the tussle. “Want me to hit you?”

Steve still wasn’t sure The sound of sirens flaring his anxiety and fear before he balled his hand into a tight fist and rammed it into Tony’s jaw. Tony groaned in slight agony, being smaller than the man before him in muscle mass and size. Tony recuperate from the blow, doing the same but aiming for the torso. Steve felt the wind escape his lungs, his chest tight and begging for oxygen before the switch flipped in his brain.

He was ready for a fight.

The two threw blows, exchanging jabs and low blows, punches and shoves before they met the concrete and Tony was overpowering the bigger man. Steve was pinned, guarding his face with his arms as the forceful blows were thrown.

Then it was Steve’s turn. Rolling over on the other man, he placed his hand on Tony’s chest as he turned his face into a bloody mess. The burn of his knuckles from scraping across his teeth, the blood gushing from cuts and wounds on Tony’s face. 

The cops sped past, the two too invested in the brawl to notice that the heat was off their back. Tony croaked out a sentence, struggled to properly form the words as he jaw ached. “Steve.” He cried out. Steve was still delivering the majority of the blows. “Steve.” He cried out again until the bigger man held a fist back at the bloody man beneath him. “They’re- they’re gone.” Tony was bruised, a cut under his eye bleeding profusely, his jaw and eye swollen and bruised. 

Steve sucked in a stiff breath. Tony was beneath him, wounded but still stronger than ever. “Kiss me.”

Steve lowered his fist as he shifted his eyebrows repeatedly. “I’m not-“

"Shut up." Tony pulled the man into a kiss, Steve pushing to get himself away when in all actuality, this is where he wanted to be. "You hit like a girl by the way."

Steve laughed slightly, gasping for air between kisses. Tony’s mouth taste like rust, the blood and spit making his stomach churn and his head spin.

No matter Steve’s own pain from his busted lip and swollen cheek, he still pushed the man away while still pulling him so close. “I know old ladies who hit harder than you.” Steve retorted, his eyes looking down on the man before in an instant of a second he was on his back.

"We should get going." Tony said before leaning into Steve’s mouth once again. Steve tasted like fear, blood and sweat making his mouth salty and sweet. It was the adrenaline. Steve nodded, pulling himself away as he looked up. 

"Where’d you hide the bag?"

"In a burnt car under the turnpike."

Tony pulled himself away, leaning back to lean against the wall. Steve crawled up beside him, resting his tired head on his lap as the two took a minute to get themselves together.

"How long?" Steve asked, hoping Tony would know what he was talking about.

"Since we first met." Tony replied.

Steve chuckled slightly, the laughter leading to a cough. “I punched you when I first met you.”

"That’s when I knew."

Tony fished in his pockets for one last cigarette. Steve did the same for his lighter.

"You know after this, we won’t be seeing each other again."

Tony placed the stick between his lips. Steve leaning up to ignite the flame. THe smoke disappeared in the air as Tony leaned his head back against the wall. “The least you could do is patch me up. Make sure I make it home okay. At least tuck me into bed.”

Steve smirked, licking his bottom lips before stealing the cigarette from between Tony’s bloody lips. “I can do that.”


	22. Daddy Dearest

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> dedciated to my love muffin, inspired by [this heartache](http://theseniorcitizen.tumblr.com/post/97490647549/skyfallat221b-what-if-clint-hasnt-been-seen).

It wasn’t the small crying of a newborn or the continuing sound of running water that stirred Clint Barton out of his slumber, it was the muffled cries that she thought he couldn’t hear. Every move was slow and cautious as he tried to remove himself from the bed. 

The bathroom was only steps away. He was only peeking at first, spying on the pair as he tried to process what was all happening. It was late, perhaps, it may have just been the wee hours of dawn creeping up on him as he tried to focus on what was before him. 

There was a red blur, his eyes adjusting as he tried to rid himself of the lingering need to slumber, holding her arms before her as only her back was to him. Clint stepped inside the room, looking over her shoulder as he saw the small infant wailing in hunger or fatigue as Natasha held her so close. It was absurd to think she would harm such a life, such a small innocent life that she’d been blessed with no more than a week ago but Clint was afraid. The fear was washed when he realized that she was hugging the small infant, hugging her so close and so tight that if one could see love, he’d be blinded.

 

"Nat." He whispered, placing a hand on the woman’s slumped shoulders. "Honey." He continued.

She didn’t move, the sobbing now a quiet sniffle as she forced herself to gain some sort of composure. 

"Natasha, look at me." His voice was pleading, begging for her attention, for her words and the need to understand what was happening.

"Why did we do this to her?" Her voice was shaky, low and almost inaudible. "She’s so beautiful, Clint. She’s so beautiful and we’re not good enough for her. I’m not good enough for her."

Clint walked in front of her, her face hid behind the long curly strands. Placing both hands on her shouders, he fought tears as he spoke. “We’re good enough. What better parents to have than superheroes?”

"Ones that aren’t targets all the time. Ones that don’t have to leave her soccer games to go save the world or ones that don’t have to disappear for months. We’re good people, but we’re just not good enough for her."

The running water continued to run, the wailings of the small child now calming into short, sniffled sobs. Clint assessed the moment, trying to piece together the clues and find the right words to say. The first thing he noticed was the water, the filling tub that was one ounce away from overflowing. Next, there stood a crying Natasha with her blouse pulled above her bra. It was never stated before that she had interest in breastfeeding but when the couple got the news, she wanted to do what was best Sadly, she just couldn’t. clint looked up articles on remedies and foods to eat, ways to stimulate the tissues into producing more but something within her refused to just make due. 

The doctor’s called it post-partum depression, common for mothers shortly after delivering. It was known to last for two to six weeks. Natasha wasn’t an exception even though it was her nature to say that she was fine. “I’m fine.” She said to Clint once on the ride home from the doctor. “Stop worrying, okay? I cry a little here and there but you push a watermelon out your ass and tell me how you feel.” 

Clint jumped to the turn off the faucet. “Do you want to take a hot bath? I’ll lay her and I can join you if you want?”

She was quiet.

The world renowned sharpshooter was silent as well, waiting.

Then, he nodded. Sniffing up her last bit of tears and pride before handing off the small baby girl to her worried father. Suddenly, the tiny human they took so much pride in fell asleep with a single coo escaping her chubby cheeks and puckered lips. 

Walking to the darkened nursery, Clint hummed the only lullabye he knew. “The itsy bitsy spider,” he lowly sang as he walked towards her crib, “down came the rain and washed the spider out,” his voice only going lower as he gently placed her head on the mattress. “And the itsy bitsy spider went up the spout again.”

The trickling noises of overflowing water caught his attention as he slowly walked back towards the bathroom. 

Natasha was sitting with her knees to her chest, her hair swooped into a loose bun at the top of her head as she looked at the faucet with a fixed fascination. “I can’t believe no one knows.” She uttered. “Not a single soul knows we have a child and I’m too afraid to tell them. I trust the crew, y’know, i trust them with my lives but Steve, Steve is my best friend and I hid pregnancy and a child from him for almost a year.” The sadness was evident, her voice low and solemn.

Pulling off his shirt, Clint stepped to the side of the tub to reach for the sad soldier. Comforting wasn’t his area of expertise but he would be damned if he didn’t try, if he didn’t give it a shot. “it’s for the best, Nat. You know it, I know it. Soon we’ll be killing ourselves off like Fury did to make a better life with her. We’re good enough for her, baby. We’ll be there for her and we’ll protect her. Who better to protect her than you? I’m not going anywhere, either. We can do this, for her, for us.”

The Earth stood still for a second. Natasha pulled her eyes away from the faucet to stare at her significant other. In that moment, that singular moment, no one knew what the future held but Clint knew that her smile, that rare gem that only ever appeared once in a blue moon, was when he knew that she knew that they were going to be just fine. 

It was the kiss that solidified their fate, their ever-changing, forever unpredictable, and horribly terrifying fate that lied ahead of them. “Thank you.” She said softly.

"Well, we also don’t have a receipt so I’m sure we’re stuck with her till death do us part." Clint laughed, their foreheads pressed together. 

**Author's Note:**

> oh hey, give me a follow on [tumblr](http://theseniorcitizen.tumblr.com/).


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